


Bad Reputation

by tkachuk



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014-2015 Season, Blowjobs, Crushing, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, Peer Pressure, Pining, Underage Drinking, alex is drunk and oblivious, dylan has minor self confidence issues, they're all 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkachuk/pseuds/tkachuk
Summary: Dylan had a crush on Mitch since they were in the 8th grade, but it was impossible to ignore the way Connor looked at Dylan while growing up. Dylan always had his thoughts, his assumptions about what was happening between them, but he always pushed them aside.Connor McDavid, the total ladies man, the next golden boy. Liking Dylan? Yeah, right. Very, very, funny.Not saying Dylan wouldn't totally be down for that if he did like him, because he kinda would.





	Bad Reputation

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this! I got done with it pretty quickly so it lowkey sucks haha but feel free to leave feedback anywayy

The night was hazy.

Dylan vaguely remembers pulling up to a random house, a friend of Taylor's, he assumes, he hopes. He was stepping out of Taylor's black SUV, he thinks. Taylor's SUV? Darren's SUV? His billets' SUV? It's irrelevant. He walked up a long, cobblestone sidewalk and felt his stomach bounce from the booming music inside. Someone on the front patio slapped him on the back, said they were glad he could show up. Handed him a solo cup half full with something Dylan couldn't identify. He didn't care, though. He hadn't been the biggest drinker in his lifetime, he usually stuck with the cheap beer Ryan would sometimes smuggle him at home or he happened to have occasionally with Mitch last summer. Dylan's sips of his alcohol turned to gulps, which later turned to more of a steady chug.

Brinksy was way too excited for this party. He was pumped that there was finally a banger party on a night where their hockey schedule didn't intervene with their games, whether it was a game night or them simply not wanting to face the consequences of a hangover the day after. They had the entire weekend off. Dylan couldn't remember the last time he had a weekend completely to himself during the season. Though, Dylan doesn't think he could recite his home address by memory right now.

Dylan would love to put all the blame on Brinksy for him being slightly hammered, but he might be the first to admit he was pretty excited himself to experience his first full-blown high school party. Sure, he's been to his fair share of parties full of drinking teenagers, he is a hockey player, after all. But, dear God, this was like the high school parties out of movies. You know, the beer pong, the red solo cups, the big fancy mansion with parents on business trips. People were jumping into the in-ground pool with their clothes still on. There was a full-blown DJ outside in their fenced-in backyard. There wasn't a single neighbor in sight. Insanity. Dylan loved and hated it. 

Dylan half-stumbled back inside from the DJ to grab another drink. Maybe something a bit lighter, like some beer. He missed the beverage only because of the memories that flooded back with it. Sitting around his pool with Mitch on a July evening, talking about their upcoming hockey seasons, Dylan's with the Otters and Mitch's with the Knights. How they're going to miss their friends and families. How they're going to miss their dogs, how they miss playing on the same teams. How they're going to miss each other because they both knew they'll only be seeing each other a limited time during the season. 

He missed Mitch. He missed hearing his laugh when Dylan made a joke that really wasn't all that funny to begin with. He missed being on the same line and the chemistry they had formed by being best friends. Boy, he would do anything to be lineys with Mitch again. He missed talking about the girls they liked, though neither of the boys really had much to say, there. Though they were hockey players, very few girls were willing to part with their lovers for months on end, especially in high school. They understood, though. Because they wouldn't be able to part with them for months either. That's why, Dylan thought. That's why he never had any input on girls.

He missed Mitch because of how he made Dylan feel. He made Dylan savor every single second they spent together, like Dylan may never see him again. He forgot everything when he was with Mitch. He forgot how he took two penalties the night before. He forgot about his schoolwork and his future in hockey. He forgot about getting drafted soon and fretting over his projected draft placement next to Connor McDavid and the American, Jack Eichel. Dylan was head over heels for Mitch. He realized how lucky he was to be his best friend, but he always had a tinge of guilt in his gut for feeling the way he felt about Mitch. He wanted to be more than friends, but not everything works out the way you want it to. Mitch had a new girlfriend, Steph, who was amazing. 

There wasn't any more beer. It was about 1 in the morning, and the party was raging on, nearing hour 4. Who was responsible for drinks, here? They did a terrible job.

Dylan eyed over a couple of half-empty bottle of hard liquor across the kitchen and poured himself a little bit more than considered necessary. He headed into the kitchen and tried to find someone he knew.

He was suddenly quite aware of how drunk he was. He looked down at his drink, glanced at a nearby table and set it down. He swore he had some amount of self-control. No more alcohol.

He thought about who he came to the party with. Raddy, Brinksy, Davo. Earlier he saw Taylor making out in a corner with some hot blonde who he'd never seen before. He claimed he was going to be the sober one tonight, and he hadn't seen him since. So, their ride was gone, assuming Taylor left with her. Brinksy was probably partying it up with his girlfriend somewhere, who he said he'd meet up with there since Taylor claimed he didn't have enough room in his car. Everyone knew that was a load of shit, it was an SUV for God's sake. Don't all SUV's have 3rd-row seating nowadays?

Davo. Where's Davo? Dylan made a 360, which was a bad idea, he soon realized, as the room continued to spin even after he stopped moving.

He saw a shorter guy standing around with some girls across the room. How did Dylan know him? He couldn't place it. He walked over.

"Hey, dude?"

The guy turned around, and Dylan quickly recognized him as Kyle Maksimovich. Dylan noted that he probably shouldn't mention he didn't know it was him.

"Stromerrrr, what's up, my dude?"

Dylan mentally rolled his eyes. "I didn't know you were coming? I thought you were staying home," Dylan quizzed.

Kyle laughed. "I got another invite, and you know? I thought, fuck it, if more people than just my teammates want me here, why would I not come? You know?" he laughed. Dylan made a mental note of how much of a prick drunk Kyle was.

Dylan stared at him for a minute. "Yeah, sure. Where's Davo at, eh?"

Kyle thought for a minute. "In the other room"

Dylan glared into his eyes, frustrated. "There are several other rooms here, Kyle."

"I dunno, the one next to the kitchen."

 

 

Dylan willingly left Kyle and headed over to the room that was supposed to be a dining room, he was pretty sure. There enough, in the center of the room, was Connor.

Connor McDavid. He was another one of Dylan's best friends. He, Connor, and Mitch grew up together on the elite hockey teams growing up. They were always projected together as the next upcoming stars. Of course, Connor outshined both of them, which was early on noted as extremely impressive based on the talents of Mitch and Dylan. 

The three of them did everything together. It was well known how impossible it was to separate them from each other. Connor, Dylan, Mitch. They just all went together. 

Dylan would be the first to admit that their friend group was... a tad weird, to say the least. Dylan had a crush on Mitch since they were in the 8th grade, but it was impossible to ignore the way Connor looked at Dylan while growing up. Dylan always had his thoughts, his assumptions about what was happening between them, but he always pushed them aside.

Connor McDavid, the ladies man, the next golden boy. Liking Dylan? Yeah, right. Very, very, funny. 

Not saying Dylan wouldn't totally be down for that, because he kinda would. Connor was good looking and kind. He was one of the people that you would totally fall for if you knew they had something for you. But Connor was way out of Dylan's league. Dylan knew he looked like a raccoon, that his seemingly-permanent eye bags could create a new shade of black in a Crayola crayon box. 

Dylan continued to tell himself that he didn't have a thing for Connor, that his paranoia was intertwining with his hormones and his feelings. It was different this season, though. He was hyper-aware of Connor at all times. He felt like lightning jolted through his spine whenever he touched him. He realized that his hair was more on the blonde side, the more he thought about it. And his eyes weren't brown like he had originally assumed, they were more of a greenish grey. Hazel? 

He weaved through the people surrounding Connor. He was facing the opposite direction than Dylan, so he tapped him on the shoulder.

He slowly turned around and broke into a smile. "Dyl, I thought you left!"

Dylan returned his grin. "I would never, you asked me to stay, remember?"

He knew Connor wasn't much of a party person. He was more shy, reserved, but when he got some alcohol into him, Dylan knew he could really loosen up.

Connor smiled again. "Yeah, but I didn't know you'd actually stay."

A random girl in a short, black bodycon dress leaned up against Connor. "Heyyy, Captain!" She slurred.

Dylan shifted uncomfortably while Davo sighed.

"Hey, Meg, how've you been, eh?"

"Good, good. This is pretty bold of me, but do you wanna, like, get out of here?" She twirled her long, brown hair around a finger.

Connor looked at Dylan. "I can't Meg, I'm sorry."

The girl, Meg, pouted. "Why not?"

Dylan looked at Connor, expectantly. He didn't want to be the reason Connor kept himself from getting laid.

"I have a boyfriend now," he responded, as naturally as ever.

Dylan broke into a coughing fit.

"What? A boyfriend?" she answered, incredulous. "Who is it? Is he here?"

"Right in front of you... Stromer!" he replied.

Dylan stared at him, wide-eyed.

Meg looked at him, noting his presence at all for the first time. "Oh yeah? Prove it then."

Dylan stuttered. "Prove it?"

Meg nodded. "Yeah, prove it, you two would be so hot together. Make out or something."

Dylan glanced at Connor, who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

He nervously chuckled. "Yeah, Connor, prove it."

Connor won't kiss him, why would he? He'd probably spit out a "just kidding" and leave Dylan with Brinksy, wherever he is. He'd leave with the girl, like any other guy would. Dylan would prove that his mind was playing tricks with him, that Connor doesn't have any interest in him after all, that the looks of admiration he thought he'd been receiving for months have been for hockey, or just for being frien-

Dylan's thoughts were cut off by a hand being placed around his jaw. He looked forward into the hesitant hazel eyes of his captain, and that's the last thing he saw as his eyes fluttered shut.

He felt Connor's lips press to his. Figures, Connor would be a good kisser, just like everything else he does. Dylan couldn't breathe.

Connor's lips, pink and plush, slightly chapped, slid against his own for a second, Dylan's surprise causing his mouth to open. Connor took the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss rather quickly, impatiently, almost.

Dylan stood there, frozen in time before reality caught up with him. Sparks shot down his spine as he felt Connor's teeth graze against his bottom lip. Dylan sighed into his mouth and slipped a hand behind his head, pulling him closer, their noses brushing together.

God, that's dumb. They're so dumb. That's all Dylan should have been thinking about. They're certainly going to be in the NHL, their careers and reputations were on the line. It shouldn't have been, but that's the world they lived in. They were at a high school party, where someone certainly could've pulled out their phone and taken a picture, and it would have been game over for the two golden boys of the Erie Otters. That was the last thing on his mind. He didn't care, neither of them did. They were both swept away to their own world, no one was there except for them. The chatter and music faded, the people around them blurred away. It was just Connor and Dylan. Connor and Dylan and Connor's mouth and something, something poking at Dylan's thigh, and- oh. Oh.

Dylan pulled away, startled. Oh.

He looked at Connor and his kiss-swollen lips. He looked hot. His hair was messy. His eyes were wide. His hard-on wasn't evident in the dim room, but Dylan felt it. He did that to him, he really did, him and his lips and his raccoon eyes that he for one found very, very unattractive.

Dylan felt anxiety rise up through him, overtaking his arousal. "I'm gonna head home, okay? You only live a block away, you'll be cool to go home by yourself, right?"

Connor winced. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be, good. I'll be fine."

Dylan gave a small smile and headed for the door. He walked home.

 

 

Dylan's billets weren't home. They were visiting their family closer to Ottawa for a few days. He stayed with Alex, and he was thankfully still at the party. Dylan didn't expect him to be home any time soon, if at all.

Dylan fell back onto the couch in the living room, completely dazed. He kissed Connor. No, Connor straight up made out with him willingly in the middle of a party.

He sat there for a while. He couldn't tell you how long, but he could tell you that some amount of time definitely passed before he heard a quiet knock at the front door.

Dylan shot up. He must've slumped over at some point. He was glad for a minute that his mom wasn't there since he was sure she would've lectured him on his posture.

He considered grabbing a stick of some kind, a hockey stick maybe, or a baseball bat. Who knocked on someone's door at 2:30 in the morning, anyway? 

He decided against it and headed towards the door.

There stood Connor, eyes slightly droopy, looking scared. "Can I stay here for the night? Please? I can't go home to my billets like this"

Dylan blinked, but opened the door wider, letting him in.

He walked in, slowly, and Dylan shut the door. He pushed Connor against it, pinning him against it. He shoved a leg in between Connor's thighs, and he shuddered in response. 

"What the fuck is your problem, eh, Con? Kissing me like that in front of everyone? Telling that girl I'm your boyfriend? You getting turned on about it? What's that about, huh?" Dylan pressed his thigh into Connor's crotch, which got a whine as a response.

Connor hesitated, but Dylan didn't lighten up on him. "I- I like you, Dyl."

Dylan looked at him.

"Dyl, plea-"

 

Dylan kissed him, hard.

He kissed him as he would never have the opportunity to kiss anyone ever again.

He kissed him like Connor was the air Dylan needed to breathe.

He kissed him like he was in love with him.

He moved down to his jaw and kissed a line to his chin, down his neck, to his collarbone. He felt something pressing into his thigh again. Easy.

"Dyl," Connor breathed.

Dylan looked at him, expectantly.

"Can you suck me off? Please?" Connor whined.

His breath hitched in his throat. "Hell, yes, Con."

"Couch?" Connor asked.

"Yeah," Dylan agreed, slightly out of breath. "Bedroom's too far."

Dylan laid a hand behind Connor's neck and placed a kiss tenderly on his already-swollen lips and directed him over to the couch. He pulled Connor's shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere behind him, he didn't know where, nor did he really care.

His own shirt got lost somewhere between them still kissing. He got Connor's belt buckle halfway open with his one free hand, Dylan's other cupped around his cheek. 

They heard the doorknob start to rattle. "Shit," Dylan muttered. He let his arms give out around Connor and laid on top of him, their clothed crotches aligned just so. Connor whined at the friction just as a very drunk Alex DeBrincat stumbled into the door. Dylan set a hand over Connor's mouth. 

They heard him run into something a few steps in the house, probably the kitchen island. He grunted in surprise as he continued to head up the stairs to his bedroom.

When they heard a door shut, Dylan whispered, "Guess this is a test of how quiet you can be, huh?"

Connor smirked underneath him. God, Dylan wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. So he did.

"Dyl, please, get my jeans off, I'm gonna bust through them if you don't."

Dylan managed to unglue his lips from Connor's for a minute in order to get his hands around Connor's waistband. He pulled them down to around his ankles. Eh, good enough.

Dylan traced a finger around Connor's erection, which earned a hiss in response.

"Dyl, please," Connor begged, "just do it."

Dylan licked a stripe up Connor's dick through the cotton of his boxers, and he moaned, long.

"Are you- serious, Dylan Strome, stop being such a fucking tease, you asshole," he breathed out.

"Fine, fine," he chuckled, and finally gave in.

He pulled his final waistband down as Connor's dick popped out from underneath. Dylan's mouth watered at the sight.

"God, Con, you're so hot, you know."

Connor flushed.

Dylan got his tongue on him before anything else. He licked a stripe from his balls from the tip, and Connor squirmed below him.

Dylan popped the tip of his dick into his mouth and sucked hard. Mid moan, Dylan slid his mouth an inch or two lower, went back to the tip, and downed his entire dick in one motion. Connor cried out.

Dylan pinched the inside of his thigh as to say "shut up". His nose was pressing against his pubic bone. He slid back to the tip and back down completely in one motion. Connor was panting, hard.

"Ho-how, did you learn to do that?"

Dylan hummed and popped off. "Ask Mikey," he replied with a smirk.

Connor's head fell back against the couch. Dylan wasn't sure it was because of the information he had just received or because Dylan went back to working his dick, finding a great combination of speed and suction right off the bat.

Connor was a vocal mess above him. Dylan was forever grateful that Alex was drunk above them. If he wasn't already passed out, he wouldn't remember hearing any of this tomorrow, hopefully.

"I'm close, Dyl," he choked out.

Dylan used a free hand to stroke his balls a few times, and he let out a choked whine.

Dylan took his entire dick down his throat and swallowed, once, twice, three times, and Connor moaned as Dylan tasted the salty thickness of his cum.

Connor panted as Dylan swallowed around his dick a final time, taking the cum down with it.

"Jesus, Dyl," he whispered.

Dylan popped off of his dick and licked up the bead of cum that escaped from his lips. He kissed Connor, hard, on the lips in order for him to taste himself.

"That, was amazing," Connor commented, smirking, cum drunk.

Dylan laughed. "Thanks, man! Means a lot," he joked.

Dylan laid on top of Connor for a few minutes as he started to doze off on top of him before he began to speak. 

"Can we go to your bed, maybe?"

Dylan lifted his head off of his chest. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

 

Once they had relocated, Connor wrapped his arms around Dylan's torso.

"Dyl?"

"Yeah, Connor?"

"I like you, a lot. I've liked you for a long time."

Dylan beamed at him. "I like you too, Connor. You're pretty okay."

Connor kissed the tip of his nose.


End file.
